


The Shadows will Never Find You

by Canary (MirrorLady)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But I will hurt Lance so much, Cruel Lance, Depressed Lance, Depression, Eating Disorder, Hurt Lance, I'm sorry my blue child, Im Projecting, Insecurities, Just a vent fic I suppose, Lance is a smol bean, Langst, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Mentions of Suicide, Rebellion, Sad lance, Sadness, i think, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-12-31 03:24:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12123465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorLady/pseuds/Canary
Summary: Lance tries to be optimistic, tries so hard. But the voice in his head keeps telling him things he'd rather not hear. And he finally gives up.Keith never knew Lance was depressed at Voltron. But now Lance is gone, and Keith will do anything to bring him back. They all will.By the way, this will have a lot of sensitive topics. Lance has an eating disability, depression, and eventually, PTSD. There will be suicidal thoughts and self-deprecation so read at your own risk!Oh my god, this is horrible. First summary, first story. Let's have a big platter of Langst!





	1. A Deeper Dive

**Author's Note:**

> So if you actually clicked this story after that train wreck of a summary, you can probably tell this is my first story. So I'd appreciate comments (not rude ones!!!) and people giving me their opinions.
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Canary

_There was that noise again, following and chasing him. It was gaining on him. Lance didn’t know why he was running. What he was running from. All he knew was that if he didn’t run, if he let that thing catch him, then it would be game over for him._

_Logically, he knew the way to dispel fear was to reason out carefully and dissect fear into a little joke that was trapped inside the bad part of his that banged a gong sometimes. Logically, he would chase away fear with happy memories, emotions that were so strong that they overpowered anything else._

_It was a shame that fear wasn’t logical at all._

_His legs ached and his chest heaved. The thick brambles and thorns tried to catch him, trying to rip his jacket and slow him down. The air was heavy and damp and icky. Lance felt that this place was in league with It, and would do anything to stop him. He ran. He ran till he was exhausted and couldn’t move a single inch more. He ran so hard that he was crawling with his dud legs and aching arms. But_ It’s _shadow fell upon him, and It was laughing, he felt, a cruel amusement. He watched in horror as It opened_ Its _jaws, it’s rows of teeth taunting him. It crept closer and closer until-_

 

Lance woke up heaving and gasping for breath. His sheets were sweaty and mussed and his pillows all over the room. He struggled to breathe, to recollect himself. He sat up and pushed his damp hair out of the way. He braced the wall as he got up, trying to both remember his nightmare and forget it. He gave up and focused on getting to the bathroom. Lance looked like hell. His red eyes were surrounded by dark circles. His jaws were tired, probably from gritting his teeth. He took off his pajamas and stared at his torso in the mirror.

 _"Not skinny enough",_ the voice said. The voice sneeringly told him how pathetic, how disgusting he was. The voice told him how useless he was, how he was nothing. _“You’re nothing but a seventh wheel. No one needs you. Hunk doesn’t remember you. Keith hates you. Shiro dislikes you. Allura thinks you’re an idiot. Pidge doesn’t even know you’re alive.”_ He steadied himself, gripping the alien countertop.

“ _Maybe you can skip breakfast, maybe you should go train.”_ The voice was so powerful, resonating in his head. Lance stepped into the shower, trying not to look at his body. He already looked terrible, the last thing he needed was to cry.

He walked to the training room, and turned back abruptly, dismayed that it was in use. But he was quick enough, he was too slow, as Keith caught him. Of course, Lance didn’t want to make it like he was running from Keith. That’d be too humiliating. He was just…speedily walking away, avoiding all human contact. That was it. He wasn’t running at all. _“Running away like the coward you are, you waste of space.”_ The voice was louder than his own thoughts. Will it ever stop?

Keith, of course, caught up to him, being the gym rat he was, and roughly turned him around. “Hey dumbass, stop running. Allura wants you on training duty, for being late.” Keith gave a smug smirk, and walk away. Lance waited till he was far away to give a sigh of dismay. He didn’t want to clean the stupid healing pods; God he didn’t ever go in that room alone. But he had too.

                                                                                           

                                                                                              ***

Lance was nothing if not efficient; a house with at least thirteen members at all times had no time for extravagance. He quickly took the sponge and readied himself to face the pod, only to realize in dismay that he’d run out of cleaning fluid. He sighed and walked around the closet for some more, only to find that empty too. He went to ask Coran.

“Coran, do you know where I can find more cleaning supplies? We’ve completely ran out.” Coran didn’t even look up. “There ought to be some in one of the closed rooms, m’boy.” Lance walked away, while the voice jeeringly spoke to him. “He didn’t even look up. Guess you aren’t his favorite anymore, though why you ever were is a mystery. He probably got bored. Disgusted with you.” Lance took a moment to steady himself, to chase the voice away. It was getting increasingly more difficult.

He walked, focusing on keeping his steps even and steady. There were so many rooms, many with far more luxuriant quarters than they’re own Spartan rooms. _“That’s because you’re a tool, Lance, a means of getting things done. As soon as they can, they’ll dump you, just like Blue did. Just like your father did, because he didn’t want something as useless as you.”_ Lance finally gave in as tears dripped down his cheeks, him quickly wiping them away. “Why do you? No one cares enough to look for you. No one cares at all.” And Lance tumbled into the nearest door so he could curl up and cry.

He let the voice and his own self tell him the truth. He was useless. He had his stupid night terrors, his stupid ugly body, his stupid self. He wasn’t needed at Voltron. He. Wasn’t. Needed.

 **No one would care if he disappeared. No one cared now. They never di** d.

The voice began speaking again, and Lance curled up into himself. But the voice wasn’t cruel this time. It was soft, caring even. “You could leave. You could run and run and never look back. You may never make it back home. But you can leave.” Lance sighed into himself, and asked the voice, ” How would I leave? Would they finally notice? Would they ever forgive me?” The voice came back in full intensity. “The time for caring is long past! They have led to your state. They are the reason for your weakness!” It thundered and scared Lance. But it spoke again. “Look, if they really love you, then they’d look for you. Or they’d try to find you. But it’s clear they don’t. So stop this. Give up and run.” The voice was so calming, so comforting.

Lance stood up, steadier than he had in a long while. He was leaving. But then again, that’s what he always did.

 

                                                                                             ***

 

The details were sketchy at best. But the plan was simple and easy, so even he wouldn’t screw this up. He finished cleaning the pods (he found enough cleaning supplies for an army two hallways down), and shudderingly cleaned the evil things. He explored a bit more and found a bunch of older Altean technology. They were little cubes. The one with the green glow held healing gel. The one with the blue seemed to be water, with strange-tasting minerals that made it conceal. It was disgusting, but Lance was thankful. He could survive on these for weeks. He found a recording pod and pocketed two. It was relatively easy to push all of this stuff into his room when no one cared enough to spend time with him.

The escape pod was comfortably big, about the size of the smallest lion. It had a pullout bed, a little kitchenette thing, and a bathroom. It was compact and better furnished than his quarters. He had a few more stops. He took himself to the armory, feeling it would be unjust to take his bayard. So he needed alternatives. He grabbed blasters, guns, rifles, and small knives. He grabbed a spare armour, which was grey-toned. He liked how sleek and understated it was. He grabbed all of his supplies and stuffed them inside the pod. He was almost done with this, and he was practically giddy. He thought about screaming _**Goodbye Bitches**_ or _**Sayonara Suckers**_ as he left, but he knew stealth was key. He both wanted to see their faces when they realized he was gone, but at the same time didn’t want to be disheartened when they hadn’t noticed. Quickly, he left his armor and bayard on his neatly made bed, as he grabbed his bags. All they had were clothes and makeup, give or take a few writing utensils. He grabbed a bag a chose his most memorable objects, things he’d collected from various planets. He would take these.

Of those left behind, he chose one for each crew member and penned quick letters to each next to them. They would begin to chase him when he failed to show up for dinner. It was time to go.

As he dumped his stuff in the pod, he realized he had to say goodbye. One last thing. He ran to the lions. His two lions were sleeping; no Keith and Allura’s lions now. The thought physically stung. He kissed the snout of both as their minds entered his. They realized what he was going to do.

Their complaints flooded his system as he tried to explain, and then failed to do so. He decided to keep it short.

“Blue, I love you so damn much. But you knew that Allura is better. When we finally switch back, Allura will be the blue paladin, not me. As far as I know, I stopped being the blue paladin a long time ago.” He kissed her snout as she accepted the loss. Her cub was leaving. One last bunch of flittering memories flooded his mind as Blue stared at him, sadly. He then turned to Red.

“Red, I know you miss Keith. It’s fine. I’m not your paladin, and we’re ill-suited anyhow. I don’t have anger; just a whole lot of bitterness. But, I did like flying you, and I know we bonded at least a little bit. It was great flying with you.” Red was more aggressive, trying to quell his idea and scare him into staying. But she gave up as Lance smiled sadly. “I love you both. Please don’t come looking for me. Please don’t track me down.” He gave a sad little wave as he walked to the pod bay.

He stood in front of the pod, suddenly apprehensive. The voice noticed this (much to his dismay, and began to speak. _“Is the wittle baby having doubts? Want me to remind you of how you’re useless, ugly, despicable. You’ll stay here and rot!”_ Lance jumped into the pod and latched the hatch. The voice was right. He should run. He smiled bitterly one last time as he opened the castle gates and flew. He pressed cloaking mode.

 

_**So what if all he ever did was run?** _

 

 

 

 


	2. Eternal Silence of the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance reflects on how he despises silence, while the team discover Lance's disappearance as well as a few shocking things about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, second chapter! I actually was going to post it earlier, but school's hard and I get less than five hours of sleep and have no clue what macromolecule is.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter has references to an eating disorder and has a few Spanish words as well. See notes on the bottom for more details.
> 
> And lastly, please enjoy this Langst.

Lance knew one thing for sure: Space sucked. Like if space was a conscious, living being (and whose to say it wasn't; after all, he'd bonded with sentential robots and negotiated with aliens) he'd punch it in its ugly face. Because space was so fucking quiet all the damn time.

He knew that sound waves didn't travel and blah, blah, logic, but he'd kill for any noise at all. Lance got up from the trundle bed and pushed it back into the wall. It was super convenient, as was everything else in the space pod. Everything was made to take up the least space possible. The elder Altean tech had held up nicely for 10,000 years of disuse.

The first thing he'd done after escaping on the pod was disabling the tracking system. It wouldn't do for him to go all this way just to be captured and humiliated. _Not like that's new for you, is it?_ The voice seemed to echo in the empty room, louder than ever. He brushed it off and walked to the steering. It was quite like Blue and Red's steering system, only far older and more fallible. He'd hacked into it three quintents ago, and had programmed the steering to take the name, Olivia. The A.I. maybe the one thing keeping him from crashing this damn pod on the nearest asteroid.

He sighed. On the bright side (if such side really existed), you pick up a lot when you're utterly bored out of your mind.

In the first week, he'd alternately felt numb and sad. He began speaking Spanish again, just the basics, and by now he'd almost completely reverted to his roots. Afterwards, he'd read theories on relativistic theory, which the Alteans had achieved long ago. He's learned to reprogram the ship, and he's working on his Altean. Anything to keep out the voice in his head.

The minute he relaxed, though, the voice came back, full strength. _You think you can keep me away_ by _your insipid singing and_ playing _? You think an idiotic monster like you, whose very existence is a mistake, can defeat me?_ The voice was incredulous and angry, which was a terrifying combination. The voice would kill him. The voice would destroy him. But the voice was his only counsel at this point. Lance sighed and settled into the pilot's seat and messed around with the teleduv settings, wishing he had his headphones more than ever.

 

* * *

 

Contrary to what Lance had predicted, Lance's disappearance was quickly noted. Dinner rolled by, and when the blue paladin failed to show up for the third meal of the day, Allura abandoned her fury and pride and ran to the command room. The team anxiously followed her, each with their own thoughts.

Hunk had felt Lance's disappearance most keenly. He knew something was up, and had been for a while, but had never gotten the chance to address it. Every time he remembered and tried to follow up, Lance would divert and charm. Lance was almost too good at avoiding conflict and confrontations, and that worried Hunk. The chasm in his stomach widened as Allura furiously pushed buttons, scanning the entire Castle of Lions for his life form. Of course, the castle was quite huge; it would take at least half a varga for a complete scan. But thus far, there was no sign of him, in any of his common places.

 

Pidge adjusted their glasses. It wasn't like Lance was known for his disappearing. He was fucking everywhere, all the damn time. And despite their insistence that all of Lance's puns were annoying and horrible, Lance was like their older brother figure. He wasn't a replacement for Matt, no. But he was the someone who made them go to sleep and distracted them from their stress and defuse tension. On an objective level, Lance was subpar compared to Shiro and Keith, not as technologically talented as Hunk or them. Not wise as Coran, not diplomatic as Allura. Not good at anything that could be clearly defined. Jack of all trades, master of none.

Subjectively, though? Lance was the glue that held the fractured force together. He made them sleep and eat after Shiro disappeared. He accepted Keith before anyone else. He brought them tea and painkillers during their monthly curse. He brought all of them to Voltron. He was their anchor in the middle of the raging storm. If he was gone, well, one could only wonder at what would happen to the already tentative defenders. Pidge forced her brain to not think in that direction.

 

Shiro was confused. He was often confused these days, though, so this was nothing new. The gaping hole within the force was already deepening with Lance gone. When he was…away, the team dynamics had changed so much. And now that he was back, the dynamics were still a mess. But for another paladin to be lost in such a short time, it was horrifying.

Shiro thought to Lance. What did he really know about the blue paladin? Well, he had a huge family. It was clear in everything he did, from the swagger of his hips to his slow, slightly accented drawl. Lance was homesick, wasn't he? But Lance had never once mentioned this, so much in words as feelings. When Voltron formed, Shiro, as the leader, felt the emotions of all his teammates. Analytic focus, thrill mixed with a veneer of anxiety, anger and impatience. But from Lance, it was all joy and achievement till time went on and that joy was being increasingly corrupted by negative thoughts. Shiro delved into the faint bond that existed even without Voltron in action. Pidge gave a soft gasp from the background. They'd felt him digging through, which Shiro expected, with their increased sensitivity to this sort of thing. But today was no time for delay, and Shiro steadied himself and jumped into Lance's part, only to find the usually full feeling empty and wispy, like smoke from a flame.

Shiro grabbed one of the wisps with his psyche. The strong emotions from the wisp jolted him. These feelings had been here for a while. Some were typical teenager feelings. Like annoyance and mild relief. No. Not this one. Shiro latched onto another wisp and had it. The overwhelming insecurity and lack of self-esteem was frightening. Who knew that the seeming paladin the most awkward of them all in the end? But as Shiro leaned in, he shivered. The deep sadness and heartbreak were almost intolerable. But beyond, severe social anxiety and bitterness welled up. And, wait…what? This was…no. He would have told them. Right?

Shiro pulled out abruptly, shock written all over his face as the other paladins whined softly as the brief flash of pain. Pidge opened their mouth but abruptly shut it as they all stared at their leader's face. Allura kept told Coran to keep scanning and then ran to her paladins.

"What is it, Shiro? Have you found anything about Lance's whereabouts? Her impassive poker face was betrayed by the worry and anxiety in her multicoloured eyes.

Shiro shook his head, and nodded, numb. If Lance hadn't told them something like this, something that was so important to admit for the wellbeing of the entire team, what else was he hiding? Shiro shook off his thoughts as he composed himself.

Keith looked at Shiro. He was touching his hair, which he did whenever he was nervous or self-conscious. Keith assumed it was the former.

"Lance...Lance was sick." Hunk blinked, and Pidge took a step back but found their voice.

"Sick? Like with space flu? He exhibited no symptoms, not that he was around enough to observe, or properly diagnose, but if he'd given me a few days....". Pidge's voice petered out at the worn out, sad look Shiro sported. "Shiro, what's wrong with Lance?"

  
Hunk's face was buried in his hands, trying not to P-A-N-I-C. It wouldn't do any good to P-A-N-I-C N-O-W. Was Lance sick? It was incredulous, Hunk shook his head in disbelief. Yet... Lance, who never displayed sadness in front of anyone for any reason, who was constantly burdened and underappreciated and undervalued?

Yes, Hunk could believe he was ill. In fact, Hunk was ashamed that it took him this long to figure it out. It wasn't blindingly obvious, but there were signs, there were always signs. Frustration at himself bubbled inside of him.

"He's depressed, isn't he?" From the moment Hunk opened his mouth, the rest of Voltron froze. Shiro was first to snap out of it.

 

"Yes. Severely so. I felt a flash of immense sadness and homesickness, to an unhealthy degree. But as concerning as it, that's not it." Keith scrunched up his face, trying to remember the idiot since he'd seen him last. Keith began to think aloud.

 

"He was wearing his hood when I last saw him. He tried to leave when he saw me already using the training room, but..." Keith hesitated. What if he had been the reason Lance had vanished? Keith didn't like the sudden guilt in his chest that made it hurt to breathe. He didn't want to be the reason for Lance's disappearance. He didn't. He pulled out a hard breath from his chest and continued. "He walked away, but I told him what you told everyone, Allura. I told him about cleaning duty. He seemed fine...except...." Keith halted. Would Lance like him to share this info? Was it too private? Stupid social cues and expectations! How the hell was he supposed to understand all of this shit? Why can't people be what they seem?

 

"He seemed like he'd been crying, like. His eyes were puffy and he was that sort of pale you get when you cry for a long time. And, remember when we got in the elevator? I remember Lance being skinny, like really skinny. Like he was... sick or something. And I wasn't really paying him much attention, but...I could feel his spine against mine when we climbed up. I thought it was weird, but so much stuff happened, and I just... sort of forgot all about it." Keith wanted to disappear. _How had he not noticed that Lance may have been sick?_

Coran muttered something from the control panel. "Princess Allura, I'm sorry to say that there is no side of Lance, anywhere. The last bio scan indicates his life form specifications about seven or eight vargas ago. They were only recorded briefly as well. In related news, well, it seems to me that one of the escape pods is missing." Coran looked concerned and a bit frightened. Allura's eyes widened comically, except there was nothing funny about this situation.

 

**_Where have you gone, Lance?_ **

 

* * *

 

  
Lance knew that he had to eat to survive. He had to physically place the cube gel in his mouth and swallow and then digest. The first step was easy. The second step was hard to comprehend.

**~~Sterile rooms, antiseptic, bleach, latex gloves.~~ **

The hospital in which he woke up in after throwing up blood. The doctor with the brown hair and brown eyes gave him a sympathetic look. Lance wanted to curl up into a little ball, but he couldn't, not with the iv in his wrist. He doctor had then been speaking to him.

Her name was Meliana Rodriguez, she said. Her daughter had once had bulimia, and from then on, she had taken a specific interest in eating disorders.

Lance wanted to deny it, to say what he was doing was healthy, what he was doing was to help him be skinny. But she put a soothing hand on his shoulder and said calmly.

"Alejandro Mattias Mcclain. That's your name, isn't it? And while you may find this conversation invasive or inappropriate or awkward or feel like I'm a big bully, do try to understand." She broke off, making sure to relax and made him unconsciously relax as well. She drew a breath and continued.

"Lance, right? Lance, you were admitted after your family found you unconscious after throwing up blood in the toilet. I've asked them to wait outside so I can talk to you privately. I grew up in a large family as well, and these sort of cases, having them all around may be overwhelming." Lance wanted to run or to grab his mother. Lance didn't want this conversation, didn't want to address his feelings and how he was and what he thought. He wanted to pull out the stupid iv and run away. He didn't want them to find out. Why had they found out? He didn't want a lecture or pity.

She looked at her clipboard and sighed like she was burdened. "Lance, you were diagnosed with Bulimia Nervosa. This type is obviously difficult to diagnose, as you outwardly ate fine, and then purged until you were satisfied." She fixed him with a sharp glare. He flinched at the intensity; the doctor clearly found his case lacking.

"Lance, had your family not found you, you could have died. And I know you love your family very much, and that they love you. So your death would have been terrifying to them, and as a favour to your mother, I'm going to help you recover." Lance stared at her shocked. He didn't want to talk to this lady, who sort of scared him. He smiled in relief as she uttered her next words.

"Unfortunately, my schedule doesn't allow me much time. So I will be giving your therapy sessions to a good friend of mine. She's brilliant, a bit unorthodox, and she'll help you very much." She gave him one last polite smile, while she walked over to the wardroom and opened the doors, causing people to tumble inside in throngs. Some were screaming Lance's name, other's were crying, and many were trying to hold it together, and failing miserably.

His Mama came to him, stroking his hair softly, mouth trembling. "Alejandro. Alejandro, Mi bebé, mi amor. ¿por qué no nos lo dijiste? Casi lo perdimos, casi te perdimos. ¿Qué hubiéramos hecho sin ti, mi amor? Te quiero tanto, mi pequeño niño azul." She composed herself, as she hugged him gently, and at that moment, Lance would've chosen to be nowhere else. All these people, worried about him? How amazing. They loved him. And he loved them.

_**Too bad you don't love yourself, though?** _

 

The voice spoke for the first time.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like I promised, two things.
> 
> 1) I am not a native Spanish speaker. I am literally the farthest thing from it, even if I'm taking Spanish I this year. So of course, if the words are wrong in any way, please message me more something. Or post a comment and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. And to all of those people who are literally cringing at how grammatically incorrect the sentence is, I am so sorry for ruining that beautiful language with crappy google translate.
> 
>  
> 
> _Alejandro, Alejandro, my baby, my sweetheart. Why did you not tell us? We almost lost it, we almost lost you. What would we have done without you, my love? I love you so, so much, my little blue boy. ___
> 
>  
> 
> _  
>   
>  _
> 
>  
> 
> _  
> _2) The disorder is Bulimia, and thanks to a few wonderful commentors, I was able to fix it from Anorexia. I'm sorry I got it wrong...I feel bad about it, but I'm human as well._  
>  _
> 
>  
> 
> _  
> _3) So other comments. They don't have to be long but tell me what I can improve on, which parts bother you, blah, blah, etc. I know we're all lazy (coughmecough), but I would sincerely appreciate it if you let me now._  
>  _
> 
>  
> 
> _  
> _And goodnight! I'm going to get my paltry five hours of sleep now.__  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> Again, what do you think? Comment and share your thoughts. If you want to talk about Langst or Klance, I'm totally down with that.
> 
> Edit: Now where the hell did my formatting go? Sorry guys, I know I should be attempting to fix this...but we'll have to see. I have three exams tomorrow. I'm a little preoccupied. 
> 
> Also, thank you for all the kudos! This is really encouraging to me, so thanks!


End file.
